


Vidi, Vici...Veni.  Chapter I.

by MyDesign



Series: Vidi, Vici...Veni. [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDesign/pseuds/MyDesign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will survive the fall from the cliff and begin their lives new lives together as murder husbands.  Here there be crack.  Chapter I is pretty tame in the crack department as it's setting the scene for hijinks.  Just you wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vidi, Vici...Veni.  Chapter I.

**Author's Note:**

> Overly flowery descriptions, fancy words that no one really bothers to look up, a title in another language, convenient murder houses and medical training, long metaphors and comparisons to blood...so many comparisons to blood. Yes, this is a post-season 3 finale Hannigram fic...but not like the others. In my want to write my own post-Wrath of the Lamb fic, I realized that it's all been done...and everything I write is ridiculous.
> 
> So I did it anyways.
> 
> Don't get me wrong, I eat up post-WotL Hannigram fics like they're candy. Delicious candy made from tasty tasty humans. This is just my take on the ideas.
> 
> There will be crack. Probably a lot of it. This is just the first part, in which I unfortunately need to set the scenes for the rest of the parts. Guaranteed to get more and more ridiculous as it goes on.

 

CHAPTER I

 

Will pulled them over the edge of the cliff and the world disappeared around them, nothing below but the frothing black of the Atlantic Ocean.  The air around them felt thick, thick like blood.  Time and their fall felt slowed, almost suspended in the thickness of the blood in the air.  The wind rushed past Will, but all he felt was the man in his arms.  And the blood.  He felt that too.  But mainly, he felt Hannibal.

 

After what felt like a lifetime of choices and regrets and decisions, Will and Hannibal plunged into the waves below.  The water looked black in the moonlight, black like the blood had looked black.  So much blood, so much black, all over, everywhere.  Will tasted blood, felt blood, smelled blood.  He didn't struggle, ready to let the blood of the ocean envelop him in its warmth and finality.

 

Blood.

 

Except this blood wasn't warm, it was cold.  Really cold.  Son of a _bitch_ , was it cold!

 

"Son of a _bitch_!" Will shouted, thrashing his arms as his head broke the surface.  As if insulted that this small man was unappreciative of the ocean's welcoming embrace, a large wave plucked Will out of the water and dropped him unceremoniously on a flat rock. Hannibal was close behind, coughing and sputtering in a most inelegant way.

 

"Will!" the older man exclaimed once he'd caught his breath, gripping him by the upper arms.  "I was afraid you would be lost to the roiling Atlantic!"

 

"Well, that _was_ the plan," Will sighed.  "I thought for sure we wouldn't survive that fall."

 

Hannibal let go of his arms, brow furrowed in genuine confusion.  "Did you miss that whole conversation we had earlier about how the bluff was eroding?"

 

"I thought you were being metaphorical," Will admitted.  "The bluff was the lie that I'd been telling myself and everyone, unable to admit who I really was inside and all that."

 

"Uh, no," Hannibal frowned.  "I was talking about the land being washed away.  It's a straight drop from the rocks into the water.  I used to come cliff diving here on the weekends, Acapulco style."

 

"Well then shit," Will put his head in his hands.  "I was really counting on that fall to kill us."

 

"Lucky for us, it didn't!" Hannibal laughed.  "Can you imagine if we had died from falling off a cliff?  After everything we've been through?  Talk about anticlimactic!  No, that's not nearly a grand enough death for these two murder husbands."

 

"Murder hu-" Will started to ask if Hannibal had read Freddie Lounds' article, but the other man was standing on the rock, waving his arms above his head at a light coming towards them on the water.  It only took a few moments for the light to reveal a boat approaching on the waves.  Will couldn't see who was piloting the boat, but two large round life rings were tossed to them from the deck.

 

Hannibal scooped the rings out of the water and handed one to the other man.  "Come on, Will," he said, pulling the ring over his head and holding it under his armpits.  "We've got a life to live!" he shouted as he cannonballed back into the water.

 

Will clutched the ring to his chest as he waded in carefully and let himself be pulled over the side of the boat and onto the deck.  As the boat pulled out of the cove and accelerated along the coast, moonlight revealed the pilot to be Chiyoh, the collar of her black coat pulled tight around her ears.

 

Lying on his back on the deck, Will pulled the blanket Hannibal offered him around himself and let out a bitter laugh.  "I should've guessed Chiyoh would be around here somewhere," he said.  "Of course she wouldn't have moved on with her life in the last three years or anything."

 

Chiyoh looked at him with disgust, like he'd tracked mud across her brand new carpet and now she was stuck on her hands and knees scrubbing it clean, her shop vac cleaner unfortunately out for repairs.  She offered no reply.

 

"She's like a cute little ninja, isn't she?" Hannibal ruffled her hair like the small child he pretended she was.  "She's very protective of me."

 

"Yeah, we've established that," Will replied without amusement.  As he lie on the floor of the boat, his adrenaline began to fade and he felt the overdue exhaustion and blood loss begin to creep up on him.  "So now what?" he asked, closing his eyes.

 

"Now we go somewhere to tend to our wounds and decide our plan from there," Hannibal answered, finally showing a sign of weakness of his own as he held his side with one hand.

 

It was only a few minutes before Chiyoh pulled the boat into a dock, leaving the engine running and making no indication that she intended on going ashore.

 

"We're stopping already?" Will asked as Hannibal helped him to stand, confused.  "Shouldn't we be trying to get as far away as we can?"

 

"We will," Hannibal answered as he stepped onto the dock, offering his hand to the other man to help him off the boat, "but we need to clean up and gather supplies first.  I have a house nearby we can hide at for tonight."

 

"A house nearby?!" Will was taken aback.  "We can't be more than ten miles from the other house!"

 

"One must always be prepared for every contingency, Will," Hannibal replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  Turning to look at Chiyoh as she moved the boat into reverse, he called to her.  "Thank you again, Chiyoh!  I'll call you if we need anything."  He gave her an enthusiastic double thumbs up.

 

She replied with an almost imperceptible smile at Hannibal then turned her gaze to Will, anger evident in her eyes.  She pointed two fingers at her own eyes then directed them at Will, repeating the motion twice before smiling again at Hannibal and directing the boat away from pier.

 

"What a sweet girl," Hannibal mused with a smile, watching her leave.  Turning his attention back to the man next to him, he clutched Will's arm and directed them off the dock and to a nearby road.

 

"Do you really have another house this close to the other one?" Will asked as they turned down a side street, the nearby houses and shops were thankfully dark and silent.

 

"I have houses all up and down the coast," Hannibal explained, "and at least one in every major city across the country."  Seeing the confused expression on the other man's face, he added, "Always be prepared!"

 

They only had to travel a couple blocks before Hannibal was placing his thumb on a biometric lock on the front door of a large coastal home.  He led Will through the darkness of the house and helped him sit in a hard-backed chair that Will could hardly even make out in the moonlight.

 

Once his hands were free of the other man, Hannibal clapped twice and the room was flooded with light.  Will found himself seated in a chair at a large dining table.  Through an open archway into the next room, he could see a plush seating area and a full size grand piano.  This house might be even nicer than the one on the cliff.

 

"Geez, Hannibal," Will breathed, wondering just how rich the former psychiatrist actually was.  "Are all of your houses this nice?"

 

Hannibal regarded him with an interested expression.  "Of course, Will.  One must always be comfortable in one's home, whether you stay there often or not."  He started towards the adjoining kitchen.  "Wait here, I'll bring things for cleaning our wounds."

 

Twenty minutes later, both men were seated at the table in only their underwear, most of the blood cleaned from their skin and their wounds stitched neatly.  Will tongued the stitches in his cheek lightly.  The knife had chipped a couple of his teeth, but at least none of them felt loose.  All in all, both of them had come out of the fight relatively lucky. Hannibal's gunshot wound was the worst of his injuries, but the bullet had passed cleanly through, amazingly missing anything vital.  Will had been shot in each of his shoulders before, so a mostly shallow stab wound was nothing.

 

"We'll stay here for the night," Hannibal said.  "We can go to one of my more permanent residences tomorrow once we're rested."

 

Head on the table and too tired to move, Will briefly wondered what made any of Hannibal's houses more "permanent" than others.  He didn't have a chance to ask before sleep overtook him.

 

===

 

Early the next morning, Will was awakened by a hand lightly shaking his shoulder and a voice softly repeating his name.  He opened his eyes and grimaced at the bright sunlight streaming through the window and the pain in his neck from his awkward sleeping position at the table.  He sat up and looked down to see an imprint of his face on the wooden surface and a rather impressive puddle of drool.

 

"You should get cleaned up," Hannibal said, handing him a juice box.  "We need to get on the road soon.  I left clothes for you in the bathroom."

 

Reluctantly pushing himself to a standing position, Will gave the other man a strange look as he took the small box of apple juice, green bendy straw already carefully in place.  He let Hannibal lead him to the bathroom, where he cleaned up as best he could in the sink, choosing not to look at himself too closely in the mirror or think about how Hannibal happened to have clothes in Will's exact size ready for him.

 

Once Will was settled into the passenger seat of a black BMW sedan, he felt like he could sleep for three days straight. Hannibal, however, was energetic and practically bouncing in his seat as he pulled the car out of the garage.

 

"This is so exciting!" the older man said once they were heading south on the interstate, flashing a grin at Will.  "Here we are.  Just the two of us.  On the road to a new life together.  I'm so happy, I could sing!" Hannibal took a deep breath and started to belt out the opening lines to something very operatic and very Italian.

 

Will quickly put his hand on Hannibal's arm.  "Sorry, but could you hold off on the singing for now?" he asked.  "My head is killing me."

 

Hannibal stopped singing and looked at the hand on his arm.  Placing his hand on top of Will's, he smiled at the other man.  "Of course, my dear Will.  You'll have to forgive me my excitement."  He gestured towards the glove box then put his hand back on the wheel.  "You should be able to find something for the pain in there," he said.

 

Will opened the compartment to find what could have passed for a well-stocked medicine cabinet, full of pain killers ranging from Advil to prescription narcotics.  Choosing something strong (but not too strong), Will popped a couple pills and pulled on a pair of sunglasses that looked an awful lot like the ones he always wore at home.

 

"So where are we headed?" he asked as he reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

 

"I have a rather lovely home in Charleston that I always thought you might enjoy.  View of the water, a wooded area with excellent fishing streams nearby, away from people, a nice yard for your dogs."

 

Will opened an eye.  "You'll let me have dogs?"

 

Hannibal seemed taken aback.  "Of course!  I wouldn't ask you to be anything but yourself with me, fleet of dogs and all."

 

Will couldn't help but smile with the side of his face that _wasn't_ making his head feel like he had an ice pick embedded in his temple.  "Thank you, Hannibal."

 

"I thought we could name one Abigail, of course," Hannibal said.  "Unless you think it's too soon?  Is it too soon?  It has been three years, but I know how you can dwell on things."  He frowned, wondering if he shouldn't have brought it up.  "You said you forgave me for that, but I know it's a sore spot and I don't want you to resent me, I only did what I felt I had to do and what was best for you, I hope you understand that..." he began to ramble.

 

"Hannibal," Will interrupted.  "Hannibal, it's fine.  We can talk about dog names later."  Really all he wanted to do right now was sleep.

 

Hannibal looked uneasy for a moment before smiling again.  "Ok!  Later then!"  He started humming happily as he drove.

 

===

 

When Will opened his eyes next, a glance at the clock showed that it was early afternoon and they were still on the road.  His stomach growled rather loudly and cartoonishly as he moved his seat back to an upright position.

 

Hannibal gave him an amused smile and a chuckle.  "Perfect timing," he said.  "I was just getting rather hungry myself."

 

A quick stop at a drive-thru and they were back on the road, Big Mac sauce dripping down Hannibal's hand and onto the napkins he had carefully tucked into his charcoal sweater and laid across his black dress pants.  Shoving the last bite into his mouth and licking his fingers clean, he eyed Will's french fries.  "Are you going to finish those?" he asked, hopeful.

 

"Huh?  Oh, by all means."  Will sat his container of fries in Hannibal's empty one, taking a drink from his Coke.  "Mind if we listen to the radio?" he asked.  "I'm curious what they're saying about us."

 

Hannibal pushed a dial and scanned through the stations until he found one that came in and was conveniently just starting the news report.

 

" _A nationwide manhunt_ ," it began, " _has_ _been deemed unnecessary by the police and FBI.  Hannibal Lecter, the convicted serial killer and cannibal who escaped from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane last night, and Will Graham, a former FBI profiler who may or may not be an accomplice of Lecter's, have been declared 'probably dead' by local authorities.  A spokesperson for the FBI had this to say_ :"

 

A new, unfamiliar voice spoke.  " _We followed the GPS tracking in the police cruiser taken from the scene to a private residence where we found Francis Dolarhyde, the killer known as the Toothfairy, dead.  Evidence at the scene revealed blood from both Lecter and Graham and footprint analysis indicated that they likely went off the cliff into the ocean._ "

 

The voice of the news reporter returned.  " _While some have speculated that the lack of bodies indicates that Lecter and Graham may be alive and at large, the FBI's official statement is an insistent 'Nah, they're probably dead.' and no plans for a manhunt are being made at this time._ "

 

"Well, that's convenient!" Hannibal said cheerfully, turning off the radio.

 

Will raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Yeah, really."  He reclined his seat again, but was relentlessly jarred from any attempt to sleep by Hannibal noisily trying to suck every last drop of Diet Coke from the ice in his cup.

 

===

 

It was four more hours before they crossed Charleston limits and Hannibal was pulling the BMW into the driveway of a very large plantation-style house.  Will pulled himself out of the car and stretched his legs.  He looked up at the white house in front of him, noting that it was significantly bigger than any of Hannibal's other houses he'd seen.  The house was situated in the middle of acres of green land, peppered with flowers and trees.  Turning with his back to the front of the house, the view in front of Will showed a wide field of grass dissolving into a small beach, ocean stretching beyond it.  Turning again, he saw that beyond the fields and large barn behind the house was the edge of a thick forest of trees.

 

Hannibal unlocked the large dark wood front door and led them inside, revealing a grand foyer with a two-story ceiling and a split staircase beginning to the right and left, meeting in the center at a balcony and hall leading in either direction.  A large doorway beneath the balcony showed a dining room straight ahead with floor-to-ceiling windows looking over a back patio and yard.  Doors to the left showed a sitting area with another full size grand piano and a harpsichord.  To the right of the foyer was a set of closed wooden doors.

 

"The study," Hannibal explained.

 

"This has all just been sitting here, furnished but empty?" Will asked.  "All this time?"

 

Without offering explanation, Hannibal headed towards the staircase.  "Come, I'll show you to your rooms."

 

"Rooms plural?" Will followed anyways.

 

At the top of the stairs, Hannibal turned right and led Will to a long hall with closed doors along both sides.  Opening the first door to the right, he stepped inside.

 

"This is your personal dressing room," Hannibal directed Will into a large room with soft carpeting and one solitary plush armchair.  The wall with the door to the hall was completely covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors while the other three walls were filled with sets of French closet doors.

 

"Why are there so many closets?" Will wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

 

"Like I said, I've prepared for every contingency," Hannibal gave a knowing wink and moved to the first set of doors, flinging them open.  "Here we have the _Will Still Insists on Dressing Himself_ wardrobe."  He opened the next set.  "This is the _Will Still Insists on Dressing Himself But At Least Acknowledges that He Needs Some Help_ wardrobe."  Continuing down the line.  "The _Will Has Inexplicably Morphed into the Hipster Lumberjack Trend While Hannibal was Incarcerated_ wardrobe.The _Will Feels Compelled to Wear All Black to Match the Newfound Color of His Soul_ wardrobe.  The _Will Has Opened His Eyes and Lets Hannibal Dress Him_ wardrobe.  The _Will Has Opened His Eyes and Lets Hannibal Dress Him, But Doesn't Want to Look TOO Metro_ wardrobe.  And the _Will is So Very In Love with His Hannibal that He Wants Them to be One of Those Couples That Dresses Alike_ wardrobe."  From the last, Hannibal pulled out two matching pink polo shirts with white sweaters delicately draped over the shoulders, eyes hopeful.

 

"Uh, thanks but I think I'll just pick something from here."  Will started to pull a soft red and gray plaid shirt from the first closet, but on a second glance at Hannibal's puppy eyes, selected a dark blue button-down from the second closet instead.

 

Hannibal pursed his lips and wondered if he should burn the contents of the first closet to save Will the temptation.  Carefully placing the matching pink polos back in the closet and closing the doors, Hannibal said.  "Come, I'll show you to your private bathroom so you can shower."

 

Hannibal paused in the hall, however, eyeing the remaining closed doors and second-guessing telling Will about his many sleeping arrangement contingencies.  He put his hand on the second door knob on the left, but remembering Will's expression upon seeing his poor forlorn pink polo shirts, moved to the next door and showed the other man into a nicely furnished bedroom with an ambiguously large bed. Hannibal's mental name for this room had been the _Will Isn't Quite Ready to be Seduced, But He's Warming Up to the Idea_ room and he silently congratulated himself on his choice when he saw Will's relieved glance around the room.

 

"This is very nice, Hannibal," Will nodded appreciatively.  "I could get used to this."  He gave the other man a small smile and headed towards the open door on the opposite wall, leading into a full marble bathroom.

 

"Do you need help applying your water-proof band-aids?" Hannibal called after him.

 

"No," Will called back.  Popping his head back into the bedroom, he smiled warmly.  "But thanks, Hannibal.  For all of this."

 

Hannibal simply grinned back, his heart growing three sizes in that moment.  When Will had returned to the bathroom, Hannibal pumped his fist in self-congratulation at his impeccable taste and left Will to clean himself up.

**Author's Note:**

> **I figured out the whole "chapters" thing on AO3, so I'm now posting this fic as it probably should have been from the beginning (don't shame the noob!). You can read/bookmark it[here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4852271)!**


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